Swim Away
by Rantipole
Summary: "We don't have to fight," he says. A sad little smile tugs at the sixteen year old's lips. The look on his face was so determined, so truthful, that Marina almost believed him. Almost. "We have to," she sighed. "That's why we're here."


"Marina Diomed!"

When she walks up to the podium, her face is expressionless. Her friends' eyes water and lips tremble, but she still refuses to let the sobs in her throat let out.

Looking out to the sea of blue and green, she is reminded of how much District four resembles their domain. They hate to be restrained, similar to the sea. But yet there is a fire deep inside of them, yearning to not be washed away by the water of their personality.

She can tell she isn't the only one who thinks this. As the boy walks up beside her—_Theseus Arlen_, her mind supplies—she sees the spark of rebellion in his blue, blue eyes, as blue as the water they are forced to fish from. There's also the flame of disobedience, exactly the kind the Capitol wishes to put out, it makes Marina wonder whether his name of only twelve years was chosen from the others deliberately.

* * *

"We don't have to fight," he says.

A sad little smile tugs at the sixteen year old's lips. The look on his face was so determined, so truthful, that Marina almost believed him. Almost.

"We have to," she sighs. "That's why we're here."

"We're here because we're being punished for something that we didn't do," he argues heatedly.

Then it was his turn to sigh. "We could run," he suggested. "Or do what our District does best; _swim away_." He puffs out his freckled cheeks and pretends to swim.

She let's out a short, amused laugh. "You make us sound like a bunch of fish."

"Well, basically, we are," he says cheekily.

There is silence for the rest of dinner. They are the only ones there, having lingered carefully over the food. She silently thanks their mentor, Finnick, for herding everyone out earlier. Now they stare at their empty plates, the silence seems to vibrate around the room.

"I still don't want to fight," Theseus mutters. He shakes his head, causing the wild blonde curls the fly.

Her beautiful face hardens. "Well, I'm going to. Apparently to the Capitol, there isn't enough martyrs in the world. If you want to join them, then be my guest."

With that she stalks off, the airy blue skirt swishing around her skinny ankles.

* * *

The bright lights shone into her eyes obnoxiously, and she wonders about how these people could pressure themselves like this. She smooths her hands down the beautiful sea green dress, inwardly cursing at Finnick. Her cheeks were starting to hurt, but he had told her specifically to smile charmingly. _Like a mini-sun._ Her dark curls were pulled back into a fancy bun uncomfortably, and she felt as if the aqua nails belonged to a cat instead of a tribute about to fight for their lives.

Recalling from what she's been told, Caesar helps all of the tributes who never really know what they're saying. And yet, he manages to make the excellent tributes even more radiant. _You'll be stunning_, the person who had carefully done her make-up whispered. _Brighter than the flames of the District twelve itself._

She can't help but feel smug as she hears the familiar ear-throbbing applause working in sync with the gasps and enthusiastic shouts.

She quickly finds herself basking in the spotlight, laughing with Caesar and the audience with ease. When the buzzer rings, she rises as gracefully as she could from her chair, making sure the skirt of the dress twirled as she did. She is genuinely enjoying herself as she gives a wave to the watchers and click clacks off in the ankle killing high heels.

_"Best of luck, Marina Diomed, female tribute from District 4!"_

* * *

He receives an eight. Fine for a Career. But Marina had received a nine.

He knew he wouldn't survive the Hunger Games. The first sign was when he had stood with Thresh and Rue of eleven instead of with the other Career tributes. Then there was he fact that he was too young. Twelve. But skilled.

He dies in the bloodbath of the Cornucopia. By Cato, of all people. Another Career, from two.

But he still watches, just as the others outside the arena are. Marina is with the other Careers. He watches as she brutally beats the District six female. Hacks as District three female's leg. And as she and the others hunt down the District eight female. If they were living a normal life, or not being rushed, he could have seen Marina and the boy from District one being together. The same could be said for the tributes from two. He might have been not a teenager yet, but he knew when passion was blossoming. He did grow up with two older sisters, after all.

He hopes there was still time for her to swim away. To use those powerful arms, legs, and lungs to dive into the lake and stay at the dark depths until the Games were over.

_But of course he couldn't have his way._

* * *

Her world was now a kaleidoscope.

The green and brown of the forest shifted around her—swirling, multiplying, disappearing. She could hear the sobs of her mother as she dropped her bag and weapons. She could feel her friend's hands shaking on her arm, begging her not to leave as she sprinted for the lake. She could taste the lingering saltwater of her best friend on her lips—a complete, sisterly kiss that was familiar to them—as she swatted at the tracker jackers.

_"Try to survive. You know what to do. Please...just..."_

_"Please, PLEASE! You can't leave, you just can't!"_

_"I'll take care of them—your family."_

She felt a stinging sensation along her revealing neck and hands. Covering her face, she gasps and cries out, wondering if the others would come and help her like they said they would. Certainly, Marvel would come, wouldn't he? He did promise.

She falls to the ground, knowing she is hopeless. The green of trees swims in front of her eyes, but at a second glance, she sees they are eyes. Familiar green eyes.

"Marvel?" she whispers. She wishes she had had the strength to lift her arm, so she could brush the light brown hair away from his forehead. She sees his mouth moving, but no word comes to her ears. She smiles a little as she had to Theseus before, knowing it was the end. He knew it too.

As her hazel-green eyes flutter closed for the last time, she feels something pressing against her lips.

Marina knows she will meet the other innocent victims later, in the after life.

_One way or another._


End file.
